As the Night Falls
by Colonial Nightingale
Summary: Harry knew that there would be massive ramifications for blowing up his aunt. He just hadn't expected it to involve being abandoned in the middle of New York City by his relatives while they enjoyed all the city had to offer thanks to his uncle winning the office Sweepstakes. AU Crossover where Tony is Harry's father. Set in PoA. Rated T for abuse. Features sick Harry in beginning.
1. Chapter 1: The Boy in the Night

**As the Night Falls**

[A Harry Potter and Avengers Crossover]

**Disclaimer: **Ownership goes to their respective creators.

**Summary:** Harry knew that there would be massive ramifications for blowing up his aunt. He just hadn't expected it to involve being abandoned in the middle of New York City by his relatives while they enjoyed all the city had to offer thanks to his uncle winning the office Sweepstakes.  
An AU crossover where Tony is Harry's father.  
Set in PoA.  
Mentions Abuse.  
Rated T for Abuse.

* * *

**Chapter One: The Boy in the Night**

So it had come down to this.

Reduced to sleeping on a park bench in the middle of Central Park or on some back alleyway because he was lost in the middle of some large metropolis and had no way of getting up with his relatives. (Not that he had been trying too awfully hard, mind you.)

He knew that the whole situation sounded very cliche, and like it came straight out of a movie but it wasn't some Hollywood production when you were experiencing it first hand. The uncertainty and hardships were very much real right now, as Harry found himself wandering around in a densely populated city with no bearings whatsoever of where he was at and where he should be at.

What he did know was that his relatives had won a four-person, all-inclusive stay at some ritzy hotel in New York City just weeks before Harry was supposed to leave for his third year at Hogwarts. The trip included four all-access passes to some technological convention that Harry had forgotten the name of as well as the hotel they were supposed to be staying at. More because his relatives never bothered to tell him and less because of a lapse of recollection.

The only other details he had was, that it had been some sort of Sweepstakes his uncle had entered at work and somehow, out of all the other contestant entries, his uncle had won the drawing. And that was only because it had been that night, that he hadn't been yelled at or pushed around by his uncle. It had been the only night he managed to get by without his uncle adding to the already numerous cuts, welts, and bruises.

Of course, the moment he had inflated his aunt by accident, his uncle more than made up for that one night's reprieve.

His relatives, so furious that he had gone and "blown up" his Aunt Marge, had really wanted to leave him behind but couldn't once Mrs. Figg told them that she couldn't keep him on the account that one of her precious cats had gotten sick and needed constant care. So out of fear that the magical community would be keeping a closer eye on him than usual, his relatives had no choice but to use the fourth and final airplane ticket on him.

They, naturally, had exhausted all other options prior to this, asking everyone from Dudley's friends to Aunt Marge if they wanted to come, but all of them had some excuse or another as to why they couldn't go.

While Harry hadn't been looking forward to spending the long hours near his relatives on the plane ride over, supposed it was better than being locked up in his room with bars on the window and a mere cat flap on the door as a way to pass food in and out of the room, or being forced into the cupboard under the stairs. And while most people would not see any improvement in sleeping on a park bench in the middle of a thunderstorm could hardly be called an improvement- if any- at least his relatives were nowhere in sight. Anything to get a small reprieve from his relatives who were still furious at him blowing up Vernon's sister. They hadn't accepted the explanation that things like this did happen to magical children in extreme situations when Fudge had brought him back home, and they wouldn't accept the fact that Harry had no control over his 'freakish and unnatural behavior'. His uncle had threatened to help him reign in control of his magic if he didn't learn to do so.

Harry kind of wanted to remind him that that was the whole purpose of him going to Hogwarts had the situation not been so serious.

It had been night time then too. And now, not quite two weeks removed from the incident, Harry found himself in an equally serious situation at around the same time of day.

While his aunt never bothered to take the time to warn him about the dangers of wandering the streets alone, as she had done with Dudley, it did not take a whole lot of street smarts to know where he should and shouldn't be wandering, even if it was in a city he had never been to before.

There were all sorts of unspoken dangers that lurked and prayed on children and teens who wandered the streets alone, Harry had recalled hearing his Aunt tell his cousin one day while he was clearing the table after being made to serve an elaborate lunch for his cousin. He could almost feel the eyes burning into the back of his head as his aunt spoke of the "unsavory sorts" that were making a living on the streets.

Harry had not missed the whispered hiss from his aunt as she had caught him by the arm once Dudley was sufficiently distracted by the telly again, telling him that she believed that it was his kind that deserved to be on the streets.

And so here he was, just like his Aunt had said. Walking along the busy pavements of New York City without a cent to his name, a clue as to where he was or where his relative's hotel was at just like the rest of the city's homeless population.

Harry had hoped that in the couple hours or so that he had been away from his relatives would have given his relatives enough time to cool down and that they would be looking for him. But he had given up that idea hours ago when the first drops of rain began to fall from the sky.

Of course, they wouldn't be looking for a freak like him, Harry couldn't help but think bitterly.

Goodness, no!

And outside in the middle of a thunderstorm? You could not catch the Dursley's out on a nice day much less during a thunderstorm that brought torrential rains with it. Had Harry not been so concerned about his current situation, he might have laughed.

Still, for whatever it was worth, Harry held on to a sense of hope that the Dursley's would eventually realize that they had left him behind somewhere (even if it was intentional on their part) and come back looking for him sometime before they boarded the plane in a week's time. He was not looking forward to going back home as his uncle was sure to have something to say about him "getting lost in the first place and he couldn't have stayed lost and why they had to take him back to England with them" but it wasn't like they could just leave him behind in New York City, no matter how much they might have wanted or threatened to but at least it would be just a matter of days before he returned to Hogwarts and then he would be out of the Dursley's way for another ten months.

Not that Harry had any strong desire to spend the rest of his summer around his relatives, he would like to at least find the hotel in which they were staying at.

As it may be though, continuing to search for the Dursleys was becoming more and more out of the question as the rain continued to pick up and the darkness of night began to settle prematurely upon the city. Coupled with the fact that Harry was getting tired, he knew that he wouldn't be finding the Dursley's tonight and that he had better start searching for a place to sleep instead. He could worry about finding the Dursley's tomorrow.

The familiar deep ache in his bones as the chill began to set in had slowed him down a bit anyway and he knew from experience that it wouldn't be long before the numbness also began to set in making it near impossible to function or focus fully on his task. While it might sound extreme, this level of exhaustion was nothing new, particularly in the summer months when he was forced to do all the gardening and lawn work for hours on end without a break to cool off or a glass of water to quench his thirst.

Even so, Harry pushed forward and walked aimlessly around a bit longer until his feet also began to ache and his shirt, which usually hung off of his bony frame, stuck to his skin in an odd wrinkled fashion that only clothes much too large for you could do all the while shedding the excess water every time Harry moved. But perhaps the worst of it for Harry was the blisters he felt coming on as his waterlogged socks slid uncomfortably in his equally soaked shoes. He was in a miserable state but he continued on a little further even though he knew the odds of him running into the Dursley's in a city that was more crowded (although less populated) than London were next to nothing.

He tried to tell himself that he wasn't trying to find them anymore, and was looking for a place to sleep, but he couldn't quite convince himself just yet.

Some part of him knew he needed to be thinking seriously about finding a place to sleep but it was hard.

Everywhere Harry went he could feel eyes on him. Women in dress suits and heels clutched their purses just a little tighter and pressed them a little closer to their chest as they wrestled with their umbrellas and men giving him the "beat-it-kid" look or bump into him as if he didn't exist as they hailed taxi after taxi in order to get out of the rain.

Somewhere deep down inside of him, Harry felt ashamed of the wary, distrustful looks he received of those he passed by.

He knew that rationally, he should be used to these looks. The neighbors all looked at him like he was some common criminal, but of course, their opinions on him had been fueled by his aunt. These people on the streets knew even less about him but making judgments on appearance alone.

He probably did look like some thrown-away anorexic kid mixed with a half-drowned rat, but it didn't mean he liked the looks he was receiving.

He wasn't homeless, (no matter how much the Dursley's wished it to be true, particularly after a bout of accidental magic) an orphan, who did not like his living situations, maybe, but he wasn't homeless. He might not receive love and positive attention, but he did have a roof over his head, well at least back in Surrey he did. Even if it was just within the confines of his room.

And whether the Dursley's knew it or not, he had money to his name. _Lots_ of it apparently if his vault at Gringotts was anything to go by. But still, appearances spoke louder than words sometimes and based on the looks he was currently getting he was sure they weren't mistaking him for the heir and Lord that he was.

Trying to battle the crowded pavements of New York City while trying not to get in the direct line of the rushing cars and buses that would spray him with puddle water if he got too close was difficult. Not that it _really_ mattered considering he was already dripping from head to toe. But still, why would he want to be splashed with a watery, car-fluid, asphalt mixture if he didn't have to?

Meandering through the streets that had no name, Harry tried not to think about the off chance that he had been permanently abandoned by his relatives at the young and tender age of thirteen. It was a long shot, but he hoped that if it ever did come to the Dursley's abandoning him permanently rather than losing him "temporarily", that Dumbledore would talk sense into them. That thought brought slight comfort to him and he continued to trudge on as he tried to find a relatively safe place to sleep.

Even after the sun had set for good, and the temperature dropped, the rain continued to pour down and one very miserable Harry found himself becoming slightly more desperate for a safe place to sleep. He had tried several business lobbies and a few hotel lobbies but they had either attempted to escort him out by security or threatened to call the Police.

Even though Harry did not really have a reason to fear the Police, he would rather that they not get involved. He knew he could have always approached one of them on the streets at any point during the day, but Harry did not want to answer the questions they would have when asked, why he wasn't with his family. And the questioning looks he would get when he couldn't give them his Aunt's contact number, or why he couldn't provide the name of the hotel they were staying at.

Feeling that he would collapse soon from exhaustion, he decided he would try one more last-ditch attempt at to sleep in some unused corner of a lobby before resigning to the reality that he would be sleeping out in the pouring rain. It had to let up at some point, Harry reasoned, so it wouldn't be too bad, although it wouldn't be much fun sleeping until it did.

He supposed it could be worse though, at least it wasn't snowing. He had heard from somewhere that it wasn't supposed to be too awfully cold tonight. He might be going to bed wet tonight, but at least he didn't have to worry about his clothes freezing on him overnight and run the risk of suffering from frostbite.

The numbness had long set in and at the next set of doors, Harry knew that if he was going to make one last attempt, it would be here, because he honestly wasn't sure how much further he could go on at this point, he was so emotionally and physically drained.

Haggardly after having walked for hours in the rain, on his third straight day with no food and clothes still dripping, Harry walked through the revolving doors and into an insanely modern looking lobby. And had Harry not been so careworn, he might have stood back in awe of the place.

The lobby was so different than the other ones he'd be kicked out of. It was slick in design, to the point that it looked as if it had come straight out of the future. But Harry didn't notice its appearance any more than he had noticed what building he had stumbled into.

The only thing he was watching out for was the burly guys (who weren't always dressed in suits as he had learned first hand) to appear before him and demand that he gave a reason for why he was hanging around before being tossed out the doors and back into the rain with a threat of legal action if he came back in when he failed to provide an adequate answer.

When Harry felt sure that no one was going to approach him because no one even realized he was there, Harry scurried to a corner, not caring about the trail of water he was leaving on the polished floor.

His teeth chattered so loud in response to the sudden drop of temperature as the Lobby he had entered was frigid, that Harry wondered if he would be able to even hear anyone approach over the noise.

As he laid there shivering, trying to keep an ear out for anyone approaching, Harry succumbed to his exhaustion on the cold, shiny floor of the lobby of Stark Towers.

It remained unknown to him for some time, the impact of his decision to sleep in _this_ lobby on _this_ particular night would have on his future.


	2. Chapter 2: The Boy in the Lobby

**As the Night Falls**

[A Harry Potter and Avengers Crossover]

**Disclaimer: **Ownership goes to their respective creators.

All rights belong to Condé Nast, the parent company, of the House & Garden Magazine.

**Warnings: **Sick Harry in this chapter.

Mentions abuse.

* * *

**Chapter Two:** **The Boy in the Lobby**

Fourteen years.

It had taken him, the legendary Tony Stark, almost fourteen solid years to forget all the preparation organizing and headaches involved with hosting an Exposition to showcase his latest and greatest inventions. At least this one was going to be taking place in New York City rather than London like the last one. But the closer the countdown got to the opening day of the expo, the more he wished the idea had been delayed for another fourteen years.

All because Pepper had taken away all his alcohol insisting that showing up drunk to his own function would not be good publicity for Stark Industries, he needed to get coffee in him pronto, or he would not make it through today. He was barely functioning as it was.

Tony didn't particularly care what the world thought of him but knew that Pepper would never forgive him if he botched up this business venture as the whole idea behind holding this presentation was her idea as she wanted to try to branch out Stark Industries into other fields.

It wasn't strictly necessary, at this point, that Stark Industries branch out, but it certainly wouldn't hurt either.

And now with the Expo being only hours away, he still had quite a few things to take care of in the small-time slot he had left and for every second he delayed it, the more it was going to snowball on him.

For one, he still had to go over the files of the two men who had won the Sweepstakes he had used as a way to both advertise and build up interest in the Expo. Pepper had been urging him to look at it ever since the winners had been chosen and announced, but Tony had kept putting it off, just as he was going to now.

It had waited this long and it could wait for a few more minutes as coffee came first and maybe a donut or a blueberry muffin too if he could get his hands on one.

But he was stopped short the moment he stepped into the living area just as he was getting ready to place his order so it would be ready by the time he arrived at the coffee shop by Pepper who was walking up to him. She had a troubled look on her face.

Glancing at the time on his phone, Tony saw that it was just before six, surely nothing had happened this close to the opening.

Tony looked at her expectantly waiting for her to drop the bombshell.

"Oh thank goodness, Tony! I was getting ready to try your lab. You need to come downstairs now!"

"Why should I? You know there is a horde of rabid people down there just waiting to catch a glimpse of me. If they see me, they will probably try to bite." Tony said while pulling out his phone scrolling through something on the web that Pepper couldn't catch.

"I am serious Tony! There's a-"  
"What's going on?" Interrupted Steve who had just entered the communal living area alongside Clint and Bruce.

It wasn't unusual for Pepper to argue with Tony about something, but they usually reserved the arguments for a more reasonable hour, not at five-fifty-three in the morning. And Pepper seemed to be overly frustrated with Tony- not that that was anything new.

"There's a child down in the lobby. He appears to have spent the night there."  
"So have Happy kick him out before he goes and gets my car. JARVIS call Happy."  
"JARVIS cancel that," Pepper said in a tone that had Tony look up from his phone and stare at her. "Tony, I think the boy needs medical attention, he appears to be sick."

At this Tony grumbled under his breath. He hadn't had any alcohol in almost a week and had yet to have his morning cups of coffee and people were expecting him to play host to a sick child when he knew nothing about what to do with a child- let alone a sick one.

"Then call an ambulance." Tony dismissed. He _really_ just wanted that cup of coffee right now. Like _right_ now. He couldn't deal with this before he had his daily intake. Pepper knew this.

"There are reporters and people lined up all around the main entrance. If we call for an ambulance, then we will have to phone the police for crowd management." Pepper reminded Tony.

"Why don't I go down there and check out the kid?" Bruce offered to try to solve the situation and appease both Pepper and Tony at the same time. He knew that Tony did not really want the police called as that would no doubt get S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents snooping around.

He did not want them around either if it could be avoided.

And Pepper wouldn't leave it alone until someone checked on the boy.

"I'll look at him and if I think he needs more than what I can offer then we will go from there."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Ever the one for plans, Steve agreed immediately. And that was that.

"And what am I? Chopped liver? I own this building! Shouldn't I get a say so in what goes on?" Tony attempted to protest.

But Pepper, ignored her boss and just called Happy and ordered that he go and pick up whatever it was (that wasn't alcohol related) that would put Tony in a more agreeable mood.

"Come on," Clint said to Tony while Steve leads the way to the elevator followed closely by Banner. Really it probably only required Pepper, Tony and maybe Bruce, to check on the boy but Clint and Steve were not about to stay behind.

"How old would you say the child is? And what are his symptoms?" Bruce questioned Pepper as they descended from the upper floors of the tower to the ground floor.

"It's hard to say how old he is, but I would say he's around ten. He is wearing clothes that appear to be at least three sizes too big for him. And I am certain he was caught out in that rainstorm last night but I will have JARVIS playback the camera footage to verify that."  
"Do you think he is homeless?" Clint questioned with some unease creeping into his voice. He knew what it was like to be homeless and so he felt for the boy but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he liked knowing that they might have a problem with the homeless population in the lobby now that one had seemed to have found his way in.

"I don't know," Pepper said as she stepped off the elevator and showed the others to where the boy laid tucked away almost unnoticeable in a darkened and unused corner.

Tony who had thought this whole situation was a bit much stayed far enough back so that whatever germs the kid possessed wouldn't jump on him and cause him to get sick.

Bruce on the other hand, who liked to remind them all that he did not have a doctorate in medicine, was not even mentioning now, instead, he immediately approached the still figure that laid curled up in a ball and placed a hand on the boy's face.

"He is definitely running a fever. A pretty high one too. It looks like he's suffering from sun poisoning, so the fever could be caused by that. Come on Steve and give me a hand. He's not heavy but I could use a hand carrying him upstairs. I would feel better if I got him upstairs to where I could check him out better and give him something to help lower this fever and possibly put something on his sunburn. We also need to get him out of these damp clothes but that can wait until we are upstairs."  
Steve immediately moved closer at Bruce's beacon and scooped down to pick up the knobby-kneed teen, not that any of them would have guessed that Harry was a teenager based on his size alone.

Picking up the slight teen Steve frowned at how little the child weighed in his arms while Bruce carefully slipped the glasses from the boy's face, taking notice of how they appeared to only be held together by tape.

Now it was Bruce's turn to frown. With the boy's glasses removed, the bags that lingered under his eyes became the most prominent thing on the boy's face. These bags spoke of countless sleepless nights the boy had suffered. But at least the boy was sleeping deeply now, even if it was probably due to him being sick.

Carefully cradling the boy to his chest as to keep from jostling him too much as he carried him, Steve brushed pass Clint and walked quickly back the way he had come. Tony had moved away all too happy to just observe from a distance fell into step somewhere behind him. And Pepper was looking up something on her phone. No doubt consulting last night's film footage that showed when the boy had come in sight of the street cameras and those that had shown him entering the building walked beside Tony not saying a word as she showed Tony something from the footage.

The good doctor was right on his heels trying to look the boy over the best he could for any other signs that would indicate just what was inflicting him.

The elevator ride back up to the personal floors that Tony had set aside for them never seemed to take as long before to Banner who was anxious to check the boy over. He knew that he should probably consult someone in the actual medical profession particularly with how labored the boy's breathing appeared to be, but he wanted to determine what the boy had contracted before he got any doctors involved. If it was a cold then he could handle that, if it was pneumonia, so long as the boy's breathing was entirely compromised, he would be able to handle that too. Just because the boy had labored breathing didn't necessarily mean the boy had pneumonia although the puddle of water that they had found the boy in certainly did not lessen the possibility. Hopefully, if it was pneumonia, they had caught it early enough where there wouldn't be too many complications hindering the boy's recovery.

He was sure that if push came to shove and he needed a doctor, Tony would be able to get his hands on one so he wasn't particularly concerned if it came to that point. Right now he primarily needed to reassure himself that the boy's immediate needs were taken care of.

Once they got back to the communal floor Bruce ushered Steve to place the boy on the couch. The child hadn't stirred once, causing Steve to worry a bit but if the child was sick then he probably needed the rest.

"Help me strip him, I don't like how labored his breathing is. And see if you can find any identification on him." Bruce ordered at the same Natasha entered the room.

She paused for a moment staring at the scene before for her before greeting the masses.

"Well, hey fellas. You didn't tell me you had a child Tony."

"He's not mine! I've never seen him in my life!" Tony exclaimed feeling more like himself now that he'd had his cup of coffee in hand paired with a nice warm blueberry donut.

Clint, who had yet to get a good look at the boy looked at him again. He _did_ look like Tony, he thought it was the hair more than anything, but there were other more subtle hints that they both shared that could lead anyone to believe that Tony had fathered this child.

"I wasn't even seeing anyone ten years ago!" Tony protested right as Steve fished out a small burgundy colored book that the boy had been carrying on him. It was a passport.

Curious, Steve flipped it open and began to read.

"Hey, it says here that the child was born in July of 2000 making him thirteen. You weren't doing anything thirteen or fourteen years ago where you? Because, Nat's right, you and the kid do share a likeness."  
"He doesn't look like a thirteen-year-old," Clint said skeptically.

"He also doesn't look like he's had a decent meal in months," Bruce said voicing his concern, as he finished undressing the child taking stock of the cuts that crisscrossed each other forming a lattice pattern all down his chest and torso and the bruises that overlapped each other on the boy's thin bony arms and legs which were bright red and blistering from spending prolonged amounts of time out in the sun without proper coverage.

"Does he have a name?" Pepper asked looking deeply concerned at the state of the emaciated boy.

"Harry James Potter. According to the Passport, he's from England, uh, born somewhere in West Country." Steve said.

"What's he doing here in New York then?" Tony questioned while Pepper ordered JARVIS to find any and all information about one Harry James Potter.

"Mr. Dursley never mentioned anything about a nephew!" Pepper exclaimed after going through one of the files JARVIS had pulled up.

"Dursley? Who's he?" Tony asked cluelessly. Was he supposed to know a Dursley? The name didn't ring any bells. He was positive that he did not have any business associations with a Dursley.

"You didn't read the files I gave you two months ago? I told you to read the files, Tony! Mr. Dursley is the man from Great Britain who won the drawing."

"Okay... well call him and tell him I have his nephew and that he can pick him up before- _after" _Tony quickly amended once he saw the looks both Bruce and Pepper were shooting him, "after the Expo."

"The boy looks like he's been living on the streets for ages, but his passport was stamped just yesterday. Why would the Dursley fellow bring his nephew only to let the child run around unchaperoned in a city he didn't even know? Is this Mr. Dursley in some financial bind that has left him struggling to make ends meet? I mean look at the tattered rags the boy was wearing" Clint questioned absolutely confused at the turn of events while holding up the boy's...clothes, for the lack of a better term.

"No." Pepper said determined to get to the bottom of why one of the contestant winner's own nephew appeared to be so thrown away. "Look here. It's a magazine article from _House & Garden_."

Tony looked at the image not seeing what Pepper was trying to bring to his attention. All he saw was a perfectly manicured lawn with a pretty standard sized house. It all looked rather dull to him honestly.

"What am I supposed to be looking at? All I see is-"  
"Read the caption, Tony."

Squinting, unnecessarily at the smaller print, Tony quickly read what it said. "_For the second year in a row, the award for the Best Landscaped Yard in Little Whinging, Surrey goes to Mrs. Petunia Dursley, of Number 4 Privet Drive. When asked what Mrs. Dursley secret behind keeping such a manicured lawn, she replied, 'I take great pride in my job as a homemaker and it is my job to keep the house looking perfect all the time. With my husband, Vernon, leaving early for Grunnings every morning and my son going to Smeltings, I have a lot of free time on my hands, so I spend a lot of mornings doing what I enjoy most: gardening.'" _The picture and article were dated back to three years ago.

Tony raised an eyebrow as he looked more critically at the house that was included in the picture.

"They have the money." Pepper insisted, "It even says here-" (and Pepper proceeded to bring up yet another internet search result to read to the room at large,) "-that the Dursley's took in their nephew at the age of fifteen months after his parents, James Potter and Lily Evans perished in a car crash on the Halloween night of 2001. People don't just take in orphan's without having money to provide for them." Pepper said frowning. "I think there is more going on than what the Dursley's are admitting. In the questionnaire, Mr. Vernon Dursley never mentioned anything about having a nephew. When he got to the question as to who he lived with he only responded with his wife and son. No mention of a nephew anywhere." She said while flipping through his file checking and double checking to make sure she hadn't missed any mention of a Harry Potter.

The more she thought about it the more she was sure that Mrs. Dursley might not be the one behind the perfectly maintained yard as she had said in the magazine. Or at least solely.

"I agree," Bruce said as he got up from the boy's side. "Something is going on here. No one just lets their nephew wander around New York, particularly during a storm as bad as the one we got last night. The boy has obviously spent more than one day outside if those burns and blisters are anything to go by."

"Are you sure there isn't a Missing Person's report on him? Or an active Amber Alert? Just because he's all scratched, bruised and sunburned does not mean his relatives are neglectful. He's a boy, they play rough." Natasha said from where she stood with her arms crossed in front of her looking at Tony.

"What do you want me to do? Hack into the Police database and check to see if there was a Missing Person report filed on Harry?" Tony said with a sigh.

He really needed to get ready for the Expo. It was approaching seven now and the doors to the Civic Center were due to open in two hours, although the actual expo didn't begin until ten-thirty, with him speaking at noon.

Plus he was supposed to offer a personal tour around the expo and offer a complete narration as well to the contestant winners. He had a ton of things to do now that he had procrastinated for so long and when he finally thought he would have the time to get things done, Pepper had decided that a somewhat abandoned boy was more important than preparing for the Expo. Which was somewhat funny, considering this Expo had been the center of her life for the past month at least. She had spent almost every free moment she had working and planning out everything to the smallest detail to make sure that Stark Industries were presented in its best light.

"If you don't mind," Bruce said as he got up from his place by the boy's side and left the room, probably to get something he thought the child needed.

"Fine!" Tony snapped irritatedly in response. Before making quick work of hacking into NYPD's missing person's database to see if anyone had reported a Harry James Potter missing.

There was nothing indicating that the boy's relatives or anyone else had even contacted the police in regard to the boy's whereabouts.

Which raised red flags and questions that only the child who laid unconscious before them could answer.

Tony found himself getting frustrated. He didn't want to play sick-maid to a child, but Pepper and Bruce were right. Something was going on here: and it could not be ignored.

As a superhero, it was his job, or one of his jobs was to make sure he protected the innocent.

And who out there was more innocent than a child?


	3. Chapter 3: The Boy in the Room

**As the Night Falls**

[A Harry Potter and Avengers Crossover]

**Disclaimer: **Ownership goes to their respective creators.

The author is not a doctor.

**Warnings:** Sick Harry in this chapter.

Mentions abuse.

* * *

****Chapter Three: The Boy in the Room****

His first thoughts were along the lines of that if he knew how bad he was going to feel upon waking, he wouldn't have spent so long outside in the rain.

His head was pounding, and his chest felt tight, both a tell-tale sign that he was sick. He knew better than complain or make a big deal out of it like Dudley always did, so instead of groaning like he wanted to, he gritted his teeth against the discomfort. This time would be like all the other times and he would have no other option but to suffer through this in silence and alone. Over the years he'd become rather good at that suffering silently out of necessity.

At least it wasn't too long until September 1st, meaning he wouldn't have to suffer too long, that is, if he hadn't shaken the cold by then he could always go to Madam Pomfrey and she'd give him something for it.

As he became more alert Harry could tell that he wasn't sleeping on the ground somewhere- far from it.

Stirring a bit more, Harry tried to get an idea of where he was at, without having to open his eyes. For as crappy, hot and sweaty as he felt, he was equally as comfortable. The bed he was laying on was almost as comfortable as the ones at Hogwarts, one could even argue that it, by some impossible feat and design, was more comfortable, if you could believe it.

He stretched a bit before fisting his eyes, only to stop short at a tug and a burning sting coming from his right hand. Snapping his eyes open he noticed immediately that he was lying on a bed in a room that was easily as big as the Dursley's own living room, if not slightly larger.

That meant he was definitely not in some hotel room somewhere, much less in the one the Dursley's were staying in.

So, it was left to be questioned that if he wasn't on the streets, in the lobby of whatever building he had happened upon last night (it had been last night right?) then _where was he_?  
And no sooner than he thought that did a voice come from somewhere nearly causing him to jump out of his skin, the sudden movement sending him into a coughing fit leaving him to catch only bits and phrases of whatever or whoever said.

"You are in…... informed Doctor.…. Young sir."  
Still, in the throws of a coughing fit, Harry missed hearing the door to the room open or the person walk up beside him and lean him forward a bit more than what the pillows offered him.

Even though the coughing, Harry felt himself tense involuntarily at the sudden contact.

Once it finally subsided Harry fell back gracelessly against the mounds of pillows and the hand that had been rubbing his back let him.

"Hello, Harry. I am Dr. Bruce Banner. We found you sleeping down in the lobby a few hours ago and brought you up here where I checked you out. I am sorry to say but you have developed Pneumonia." The doctor gave him a reassuring smile, "It was caught early so you should not have any complications but I will continue to monitor things closely for the next couple of days." Bruce noticed Harry's eyes drifting to the IV in his hand, no doubt questioning its necessity. "That is currently giving you the antibiotics you need to fight this thing, it's going to have to stay in for a bit."

Harry looked at Bruce questioningly. He didn't know a whole lot about IV's and muggle medicine (he really didn't know a lot about magical medicine) but he knew from the tv shows his cousin would occasionally watch, that it was primarily found in muggle hospitals. But he wasn't in the hospital, he was… somewhere. Hopefully, that meant that his pneumonia wasn't so bad that he warranted a trip to the hospital because there was no way his relatives were going to foot that bill.

"Only until you start feeling better," Bruce reassured him quickly at Harry's unsure look. "I will take it out when I feel you are well enough."  
"Oh, uh, okay. Yeah, thanks." Harry rasped out. Where was he again? And who had been speaking to him when he first woke up. No one had been in the room with him, he was certain.

"Normally in cases like this, we'd call an ambulance and have you taken to the hospital and from there the police would be contacted along with Child Protective Services but in your case, providing your breathing is not compromised at any point, I figured that you might do better if you stayed here. I have everything I need to take care of you here, but if you would prefer to be in the hospital it can be arranged."

Harry just looked at the man questioningly. And exactly _why_ would it be better if he stayed here? Not that he was overly eager to go back to the Dursley's or anything, but it wasn't like he really had anywhere else to go at the moment. And given a choice between going back to the Dursley's, going to a muggle hospital or staying here in this room, in this bed he would probably choose this bed. It was very soft and comfortable.

"Here's okay, I guess."

The man looked relieved for a moment before he shuffled a bit as if he suddenly became unsure of himself.

This lasted for a couple of seconds before Harry felt himself growing anxious. It was clear that the man wanted to say something but he probably didn't know how to word it.

The doctor must have sensed Harry's anxiety because he smiled sadly at Harry for a brief moment before biting the figurative bullet and pulled up a chair that had been somewhere in the room.

"Harry, it is okay if I call you that, right? Steve Rogers, found your Passport. We will return it to you when you leave, whenever that may be."  
"Yeah." Harry croaked trying to suppress a cough but failing miserably in doing so.

"Don't hold it in," Bruce warned kindly while patting his back carefully, "I can give you some cough medicine now that you're awake if you want it."

Harry couldn't answer over the coughing but wished that it was Madam Pomfrey taking care of him, for at least she would have given him a Pepper Up potion. Plus it was all levels of uncomfortable to have a complete stranger take you into his own apartment (he was in an apartment, right?) and care for you. And who was Steve Rogers? The man had said the name as if he expected Harry to pick up on it. He hadn't. But it didn't matter, he'd probably take a cough suppressant offered to him by Voldemort himself if that would ease his coughing and lessen the pain in his chest.

Eventually, without the help of Voldemort or any of his Death Eaters, the cough died down.

"I know you're feeling tired and sleep is probably the best thing for you, but I would like your permission to do something real quick. It would only take a couple of moments, I promise. It's entirely up to you, you can always stop me or tell me, no, but I was wondering if you wouldn't mind if I took a small blood sample or a Buccal Swab."  
Harry's face must have told Bruce what he wanted to know because the doctor wrung his hands together.

"It doesn't have to be now if you'd rather think about and give me an answer."

But Harry wasn't listening. Could the man even take a blood sample here? It wasn't like he was a doctor's office or at a hospital somewhere. But he had given him an IV so it was possible that the man could take a blood sample from him. And what was a Buccal Swab?

"A what?"

"I just want to check your DNA. You don't have to lie to me and tell me everything's okay. I can clearly see that it isn't. I wanted to wait until you were awake so that I could get your consent, before doing it though. Basically, I'd prick your finger to get a blood sample or I could swab the inside of your cheek." Bruce said while looking at Harry. There was no pity in his eyes, just well-meaning concern.  
Harry knew now what the doctor wanted to do but Harry shook his head, which made his head swim a bit.

"My parents are dead." He confessed as his vision cleared.

"I know. JARVIS looked you up and we found records of your parents' death certificates." A note of pity crept into Bruce's voice here as he went about explaining how he had found this bit of information out. "I am sorry for your loss. I am sure they were good people." Maybe Harry was just imagining things but he could have sworn that there was something left unspoken in that comment.

"Thanks. They- they died a hero." Harry said with conviction. No matter what lies the Dursley's tried to spread, he knew the truth. And he would spread that truth just as sure as the Dursley would spread their lies.

Bruce looked long at Harry before sighing.

"We can always do this later if you decided you want to do this." He said again trying to give Harry a chance to back out. "You won't be up and moving around much until I take that IV out in a few days yet so you have plenty of time to think it over."  
But Harry was curious. He didn't know much about DNA testing but he thought he recalled hearing from somewhere that it was able to determine who a child's parent was. Why would a stranger want to run a DNA test on him?

Okay, so the man had admitted to knowing that Harry's home life sucked but Harry had just told him that his parents were dead. Which he supposed was proof enough for some people to get the idea that he needed a new living situation but he was a stranger and from England at that. It was highly doubtful the man could make any permanent arrangements for him, particularly when the only living next-of-kin he had were the Dursley's.

Even witches and wizards were unable to bring back the dead, so there was no way this doctor would be able to magically bring back his parents just to get him away from the Dursley's.

"What is it that you want to know?…" Harry questioned, careful not to give an answer just yet.

"As I have said before, I know your life with your Aunt and Uncle is not the best. The marks and bruises on your body…" Bruce trailed off, and Harry would swear that the man's eyes changed color a bit before he took a calming breath and continued. "I should have reported this the CPS the moment I suspected it, however considering that you're from England and we're in America, things would get complicated and messy _very_ quickly. The only solid way for us to get you away from your relatives is if we find another living relative that could take you in. I could not, in good conscience, send you back with your relatives. I'd rather exhaust every other resource and try to get you out of there than send you back or into foster care."  
"But, I don't have any other living relative. My grandparents are dead and my dad was the only child."

"Never say never, Harry," Bruce said simply. "Strange things have been known to happen and DNA doesn't lie."

There were times where DNA could lie, like if you were under a Polyjuice potion, but Harry didn't feel like it was an appropriate time to mention that. So he consented with an, "Okay."  
"What?"  
"I said okay, I'll do it," Harry said heavily. If there was the slightest chance he didn't have to stay with the Dursley's he'd take it. But it wasn't like he had any other relatives around so there really wasn't any harm being done. Harry was just humoring the man, simply because the man had been so kind as to take him in and care for him while he was sick.

He'd be fine, a few more days of this and then he'd be at Hogwarts and out of the Dursleys hair for another ten-months

"Excellent!" Bruce said. "Give me just a few minutes to run down to my lab and gather the supplies I need okay? I promise I won't be gone long and then we can get this show on the road so that way you can rest."  
"All right," Harry answered despondently, sinking further back into the pillows.

Bruce smiled encouragingly, "I'll be right back," and with that final promise, he left the room.

Leaving Harry alone to take care of any personal needs that might need to be tended to.

Ten minutes later found Harry wincing as a needle pricked his finger. He was _so_ glad needles weren't necessary in the magical community.

"So, uh, what are you looking for exactly?" He asked once Bruce had plastered his finger.

"A match."

"Yeah, I got that, but you must have someone in mind. I might be thirteen, but I know that random strangers just don't offer DNA test to other strangers without some motive. No one's without a motive." Harry said resolutely. "And you have to have a record of someone's else's DNA on file in order to find a match. So you must have an idea."

Bruce wasn't willing to let Harry in on his suspicions that he suspected he knew who the boy's father was. Not without proof and unfortunately looks alone wasn't solid indisputable proof that this boy was Tony's. There was something about the boy's attitude and comments made Bruce deeply concerned. The boy didn't seem to have a lot of hope in finding another relative who would be willing to take him in. Even if Tony wasn't a match Bruce would try to find someone else.

"You're right Harry. I do have a motive for doing this. As motives go, it is a rather simple one: as long as you are staying here I will try my hardest to get you away from your relatives." He continued to try to persuade and reassure the boy before him.  
"Why me though? I am a stranger, who, for all you know, deserves it. By the end of the week, I will be back with my relatives and back in England and out of your life. A distant memory. I am sorry but you're wasting your time. There's nothing you can do. Believe me, I have tried." Harry said thinking back to all the times he had tried to tell a teacher or even his Professors at Hogwarts.

"No child deserves to go through what you are going through. Please believe me on this. I want to help you. At least let me try. I promise that everything I do will be in your best interest and try to keep you abreast of everything. If your pneumonia was to become worse there might be a time in the upcoming days where I would have to make some executive decisions. Otherwise, no matter what happens, I will inform you."

"Fine," was the response Bruce got, but he couldn't tell if Harry was really agreeing with him because he accepted the help or if it was his exhaustion speaking.

"I will leave you for now so that I can test the samples, but I will be back to check on you. If you need anything just ask JARVIS. JARVIS will get you anything you need, well, JARVIS will alert one of us and we will bring it to you." Bruce amended, before casting one last look at the boy before leaving the child's room.

Almost immediately he was confronted by both Steve and Clint who had been hanging around outside the door no doubt waiting to hear any news about their guest, Bruce was mildly surprised that Pepper, at least, hadn't joined them but figured she must have gone with Tony to the Stark Expo.

"Has he woken?" Clint asked while Steve relaxed and leaned against the frame of the room across the hall from the one Bruce had just exited with his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest.  
"Yes." Bruce didn't immediately offer anything more making sure the door was closed securely behind him.

"And did he say what he was doing down in the Lobby?" Clint asked.

"No, and I did not ask. The child has a lung infection, it's expected he would be exhausted and sleep is recommended in these cases. There were other things I needed to address."  
"Like what?" Steve demanded.

"About the chances of there being someone more suited to take care of him besides his current guardians."  
Steve looked at Bruce hard for a long second. "You can't just go and try to find a better set of guardians for the boy."  
"The child is abused and neglected, Steve. I might not be a medical doctor, but I am an adult. It is our job, as such, to help children get out of situations as they cannot do it themselves."  
"But where would he go? Tony isn't keen on the idea of letting the child stay here. The only reason why he's letting the boy stay here instead of shipping him off to some hospital is because Pepper thinks that it will cause bad publicity once it gets out and all. Nevermind what will happen when the boy gets feeling better. There's no telling what the boy could get into, the trouble he could cause." Clint argued siding with Steve.  
"You two and Tony are worried about the wrong things. The child is sick, he's going to spend most of the next couple days sleeping or resting not wandering around getting into things he shouldn't be." Bruce tried to explain again. "Besides, by the time he is feeling well enough, I should hopefully found someone more suited to take him in. I can promise though, that Harry won't cause any problems nor get into anything he shouldn't."  
"Why don't you get the police involved or S.H.I.E.L.D.? They could probably help him out more than you could, and that way you don't have to worry about it. Alerting them would mean that you have done your part." Clint spoke up.  
"I made a promise to Harry that I would help him and I intend to keep that promise," Bruce said firmly.

"Oh great. The boy's been awake for all of what ten-twenty minutes? And you go and start making promises you don't even know if you can keep." Steve said a bit harsher than he intended to. But Bruce _needed_ to understand that they couldn't always be the hero and save everyone. This boy was going to be one of those times. He was from England whereas they were in America. Even if they had gotten S.H.I.E.L.D. involved the moment they got the boy from the lobby, both Clint and Steve doubted a week would be enough time to get the child moved into a new home and declare his relatives unfit.

And while they would like to save everyone, it just was not possible to save everyone. They would save as many as they could but the truth was someone, somewhere was going to fall through the cracks and under the radar.

This boy was, unfortunately, going to be one of those cases.

"What's going to happen when the boy's relatives eventually come for him? Will you be able to look into his eyes and tell him you failed?" Clint said softly. "Tell me Bruce- I saw the evidence myself. It's been going on for _years_\- how many times over those years do you think that someone has made a similar promise. A promise to get him out of that home and _failed_." There was a slight raw quality to the Archer's voice.

Almost immediately Steve jumped at his chance to try to further persuade Bruce to just focus on getting the boy feeling better and then wiping his hands clean of the whole ordeal.

"Do you really think that Harry's going to just accept our help? You know how these things go Bruce and were strangers, not some trusted adult. Harry's probably going to insist that everything's fine- if he hasn't already. There's no way he's going to trust us enough to open up and tell us anything. If we are going to get him away from his relatives we would need a statement from him. And I am sorry," Steve said shaking his head "but I don't think simply taking a child off the streets and nursing him back to health is the way to get that."

"Maybe I have already thought about all this and found a fail-proof way to get Harry away from his relatives," Bruce said while fingering the small vial of blood he had tucked away in his pocket for testing. "I will be down in the lab if you need anything. I will be up in two hours' time to check on Harry. Excuse me."

And with that, a more than slightly harrassed Bruce turned his back on curious Steve and a confused Clint.


	4. Chapter 4: The Boy in the Tower

**As the Night Falls**

[A Harry Potter and Avengers Crossover]

**Disclaimer: **Ownership goes to their respective creators.

The author is not a doctor, nor am I an expert in Biology.

**Warnings:** Sick Harry in this chapter.

Mentions abuse.

I don't know how DNA test results look like, so I'm BSing my way through it.

**Author's Note:** Been busy, and it's been a while, but I figured I'd update due to being stuck at home. I hope you all are staying safe, happy, and sane during these times.

All dates in HP have been pushed forward to correlate with MCU events.

* * *

**Chapter Four: The Boy in the Tower**

Bruce sighed as he messed around his lab, trying to keep himself occupied long enough as not to run and check the progress on Harry's DNA sample. It would get done when it got done, and no amount of checking and rechecking on his part would speed up the process. He tried not to get his hopes up until he knew for sure that Tony had fathered the kid, but he was getting anxious. Even if the kid wasn't Tony's and he wouldn't know until the test came back, there was no way he could send the kid back to his relatives, regardless of what Clint and Steve said.

In a way, Bruce was surprised at both of them. While he did not- could not- expect them to just accept that the kid was Tony's (he just kept getting ahead of himself), he was surprised that they seemed just to accept defeat. Since when do the Avengers just give up and accept that they "couldn't save them all?"

Since we did the Avengers, _say_ that they "couldn't save them all?"

They were superheroes, were they not?

Maybe they can't save them all, but they can sure try. They _would_ try. Nothing was stopping them from trying. And Harry looked like he could use someone in his corner to fight for him, something Bruce was all too willing to do.

Bruce was getting anxious and half the mind to run upstairs just to check on Harry, but the child needed rest if he was going to recover. He decided to ask JARVIS to bring up articles on how to get potentially abused children acclimated to a new environment and began reading. He knew he was jumping the gun, but if Harry was Tony's child, then Bruce wanted to make sure that he could help support Harry and Tony as they transitioned into their new roles.

Finally, what felt like hours later, and probably was, Bruce was looking at the results that would prove once and for all that Harry was now exactly where he should have been the whole time.

Satisfied, if not a little surprised that it was _true_, Bruce pondered briefly at what this would mean not just for Tony and Harry, but for the Avengers as well.

Tony wasn't precisely the fatherly type, being too interested in being the life of the party and living a carefree life. Although it was a well-known fact that Tony was neither choosey or careful with who he slept with, never in the hundred or so allegations that had sprung up over the past few years, had there been a positive match.

And now, by some twist of fate, there was one.

There was proof that Tony had a child. A severely neglected, and very likely abused child, to take care of.

It was difficult enough to learn that you were the father of a child on any given day but to learn that you would be assuming legal responsibility for a neglected, if not abused, child. But surely it was not something even the great Tony Stark would be able to come to terms to immediately.

As badly as Bruce wanted to call up Tony and tell him, he knew that it might be better to go to Harry and tell him first. He had promised the kid to keep him informed and aware of what was going to happen to him. Besides, Tony was actually working for once, and Bruce knew that Tony needed to focus on the Convention.

Reaching the floor that Harry was being kept on, he quickly made it to the room that housed the boy and knocked on the door, waited, before knocking again. Assuming that the kid was asleep and did not hear him, Bruce slowly opened the door and invited himself in.

And indeed, he found the boy deep asleep. For a few moments, Bruce just took in the sight of Iron Man's newly found son. Even at thirteen, Harry looked so young, carefree, and innocent while he slept. The boy was small for his age, painfully so, but Bruce knew without a doubt that Tony would take the sleeping child in and give him a better life than his relatives had ever dreamed of giving him.

In other words, the only way Harry had to go now that it was determined that Tony was his father was up.

He supposed he probably should have gotten Tony's consent before running the DNA samples through, but they'd done it so many times before without it, so Bruce hadn't thought much about it at the time.

Once, he had given the kid a glance over, making sure he hadn't dislodged the IV and making sure his breathing remained unchanged- it hadn't- Bruce pulled up a chair and waited patiently for Harry to wake.

A short while later, Harry began to stir. Bruce noticed and shifted uncomfortably at the thought of the conversation they would be having in a matter of minutes.

* * *

As Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Bruce slowly got up from his chair and made his way to Harry.

After rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Harry pushed his glasses on his face. Hearing someone approach him, he jerked his head to see who it was. Not used to someone walking quietly as the Dursley's sounded like elephants stomping around, and Aunt Petunia wasn't exactly quiet in her heels, Harry was startled to see someone approach his bed. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he forced it to calm down when he noticed it was the same guy as before. How long had he been there? But that thought quickly left him as the man gave him a small smile in greeting before asking Harry how he was feeling.

He shrugged in between coughs. Why did it matter how he was feeling? He'd suffer in silence for a few days before getting over whatever he had, get shipped back to his aunt and Uncle, and promptly forgotten by this man. Why did he pretend to care for him when he was just some stranger off the streets they had found. Although, Harry supposed, had been sleeping in his lobby.

Bruce frowned at Harry's vague shrug.

"How's your chest? Do you feel like you are having more difficulty breathing?"  
"No," Harry said while trying to stave off another coughing fit.

"Well, let me know if your chest feels like it's becoming tighter or you feel like it is becoming more difficult to breathe. There's no need for you to suffer in silence. As it is, Tony will probably contact his physician and insist he come by and look you over. While he's at it, he'll probably prescribe you something stronger than what I have at hand that will help you fight this infection off faster. As well as something for that sunburn you got, as it won't be going away on its own either."  
Harry's eyes widened at the thought of a muggle doctor looking at his Uncle's handiwork. Once the inquiry was over and done with his Uncle was going to have a field day with him, he just knew it.

"There's no need to get the, um, I mean you don't have to; I will be fine! There's no need to get a doctor involved, I was just working out in my aunt's flowerbeds, and I lost track of time, and then it started to rain and, yeah I'll be fine. It happens all the time."

Harry was cut off by another hacking cough. Bruce calmly waited for him to finish before giving him some water.  
"Still, I know Tony, and I know that he's going to want his- his guest to be comfortable." Bruce had almost slipped up but had caught himself just in time.

"Harry, remember I took your DNA to see if I couldn't find you some more relatives?" Bruce paused, waiting for Harry to answer in affirmative.

"Yeah, I mean, yes, sir. What about it, sir?"  
"Please call me Bruce, Harry," he responded kindly while wringing his hands, trying to choose his next words carefully.

"Well, when you asked me, a few hours ago, if I had someone in mind, I did. I didn't want to tell you and get your hopes up in case it wasn't a match, as I was just acting on suspicion. Anyway, I ran your DNA against his, and it just came back, and there was a 50% match in your's and his DNA." Bruce said while staring at Harry, waiting for his reaction at the news.

So far, Harry hadn't shown any recognition to any of the names Bruce had said, but he had not actually mentioned Tony, but in passing so it was possible that if he recognized any of them, it would be Tony Stark.

"So," Harry said slowly, "what does that mean," while staring uncomprehendingly at Bruce.  
"It means that I can say with 99.9% certainty that Tony Stark is your father." He said with bated breath, unsure how Harry was going to take the news.

When Harry stayed silent for several minutes, Bruce thought maybe that was going to be it and attempted to begin explaining what was going to happen now.

But Harry to Bruce's surprise started to shake his head, denying Bruce's claim vigorously.

"No!" Harry said firmly while placing the glass of lukewarm water on his nightstand. "No, you're lying! Everyone knows I'm the son of James Potter. I look just like him, but I have my mum's eyes."

"Harry, I understand,-" Bruce started sympathetically but was immediately cut off.  
"No! It can't be. You _have_ to believe me," the distraught teen was now looking at Bruce imploringly. When Bruce didn't say anything, the boy continued, "I look nearly identical to my dad, _James Potter_. I have his messy hair, his nose, we even have a similar smile! Look, _look_, I even have his poor eyesight! Honestly, I could be his twin if I was about twenty years older!" Harry said vehemently, but his emerald green eyes sparkled with the hysteria he was feeling within.

But having not seen a picture of James Potter, Bruce could only assume that the boy knew what he was talking about. "I understand that this is a lot to take in, and I'm sure that you have a lot of good memories of your step-dad, but you look a lot like Tony. Which is why I initially suspected that you two might be related."

Harry frowned at this, "But surely loads of boys look like Mr. Stark. Does that mean that they're his son too? Doesn't he have other kids? Why would he want me?"  
"No, you are the only child of Tony's that we're aware of, and it's Tony. He hates it when people call him Mr. Stark." Bruce said, glad that Harry had calmed down a bit and willing to talk about this a bit more rationally. He had begun to worry about how labored his breathing had become.

"Then why did you suspect that I was, _is_, this Tony Stark guy's son?"  
Bruce looked confused before looking at Harry in absolute shock. "You mean to tell me you've never heard of Tony Stark?"

"No. Should I?" Harry said meekly peering apprehensively at the man who had settled back into the chair beside his bed, with a forgotten piece of paper in hand. Would he be mad that Harry didn't know about Mr. Stark? He certainly seemed surprised.

Shaking his head in amazement, Bruce muttered to himself, "I thought _everyone_ had heard of Tony Stark," before talking a bit louder for Harry's benefit. "Tony Stark is part of the Avengers; he also owns the building we're currently in."  
But Harry appeared even more confused at the mention of a new name. "Avengers? What is that?"

"Superheroes. You know like, Iron Man? Captain America? Hawkeye? Battle of New York? _Loki?"_ Bruce said, hoping one of those names would ring a bell, but the boy still appeared clueless.

"Um, should I recognize any of those names?" The teen lying on the bed said uncertainly.

Bruce let out a heavy sigh while muttering, "it would certainly make my life a lot easier."

Harry looked down at his folded hands in shame.

"Never mind, Harry, we cannot know everything. I am just surprised. I had thought everyone had heard of us, but it's fine if you haven't. A lot of what the media says about us is wrong anyway."

"Oh."  
"So, do you want to see the proof?"  
"Proof of what?" Harry's green eyes flew to meet Bruce's brown ones before he looked at his hands again.

"The proof that Tony is your father?" He said while stretching out his hand, proffering the paper for Harry to take.  
While Harry did not take the paper, he didn't immediately refuse it either.

Did he what to take the paper? Did he want to upend everything he had always thought to be true and take the paper, or did he want to selfishly hold onto to what he knew and reject the "proof."

But was it really that simple? Was anything as simple as accepting or rejecting a piece of paper?

Tentatively, Harry reached out, careful not to touch Bruce, and grabbed the paper, because, no, it wasn't. Nothing was as simple as merely denying something by refusing to see the proof when everyone else knew the truth.

It didn't really matter what Harry wanted, after all. It never had, and Harry was sure it never would matter.

So quelling his fear and summoning his inner Gryffindor bravery, Harry took a peek at the paper. Not knowing enough to comprehend what it was trying to say but anxious enough to see it in writing where it said that this supposedly famous Tony Stark was his father.

Harry's searched the paper over not knowing what he was supposed to be looking at and eventually admitted defeat and looked up at Bruce for answers.

Bruce chuckled, "Sorry, it can be a bit confusing if you don't know what to look for, but this is what you're looking for." He said while directing Harry to what was supposed to tell him that Tony Stark was his father.

But when Harry looked at it, he didn't see anything that even remotely looked like it said Tony was his dad.

He had no way of knowing if he should know how to read DNA results. It had been a few years since he had gone to a regular muggle school, and they didn't exactly teach them how to interpret DNA results at Hogwarts, so he still wasn't sure what he was looking at.

It looked like a bunch of darkened spots on the sheet, not unlike Morse Code.

"Those are DNA markers; you get half of your DNA, which is your genetic make-up, from your mother, and the other half from your father. This is why I said that I am 99.9% positive that you share 50% of your DNA with Tony Stark. As the reason why you are most likely favoring your step-dad and possibly Tony in appearance is that we tend to have more of our father's traits than our mothers, even though we only share half of their DNA."

Harry looked a more than a little loss at Bruce's explanation but nodded his head. "So, what happens now? I mean, does he know? Have you told him yet? Does he even know I'm here?"  
"Tony knows that you are here. He went down to the lobby with me and a couple of other guys after Pepper discovered you down there. He's the one that set you up in this room; it's actually on his floor after Pepper insisted that you be kept close by so that we could monitor you. Pepper is the CEO of your dad's company."  
"Could you -could you please not call him that?" Harry said while biting his lip as the nerves were getting to him.

"I apologize, Harry. Of course, I will stop calling him that. I wasn't thinking when I said that, and to answer your second question. No, I haven't had a chance to talk to Tony about him being your father yet. He had an important engagement today, and so he's been busy with that, but I assure you I will talk to him as soon as he gets in about it. He will no doubt come by and check on you, and as I said earlier, insist that his personal doctor come and check on you as I am not actually a medical doctor."  
Harry looked wide-eyed at Bruce before his eyes drifted to the needle that was taped securely to the back of his hand.

"I know enough about medicine to do the basics; I just don't have a doctorate in medicine as I chose to study physics." He said in an attempt to soothe the child.

"Oh."  
"If you would rather see one now, though I am sure it could be arranged, I just thought that with your situation, you might not want to have to go through that. I have always heard that children's homes and foster homes are not always the best environment for kids. And some of the older kids have trouble adjusting, and it's not like Tony doesn't have room for you here." Bruce felt like he was rambling, and while he felt bad for the kid's predicament, he knew now that they knew that Tony was his father, that there was no chance that Harry would ever set foot in a children's home.

"My relatives always told me that they should have dropped me off at an orphanage somewhere," Harry said softly and had Bruce not had enhanced hearing, he might have missed it.

"Your relatives are Petunia, and Vernon Dursley, aren't they?" Bruce said as he watched Harry turn and look at him in alarm for having known that information.

"How did you-"  
"We had JARVIS look you up after we found your passport. Don't worry; we are not going to send you back to them if you don't want to go. You have a home here, now, if you want it, always remember that Harry."

"Whose JARVIS?"  
"JARVIS is Tony's hyped up butler. JARVIS, which stands for Just A Rather Very Intelligent System is an AI or Artificial Intelligence that Tony built into the building. He can do anything you want; all you have to do is ask."

"Not so, Dr. Banner, I cannot cook or clean up after you; however, I can order take-out and inform the cleaning staff to come to one of the floors."  
"See, as I said, JARVIS can do just about anything."  
Harry looked unsurely at Bruce, but Bruce met the gaze with an encouraging smile, "just say something back, like hello, or you could ask him something, like what is the weather like outside?"

"Um, hello, JARVIS." He said lamely. He felt kind of silly talking to thin air, although he had spoken to ghosts sometimes at Hogwarts. The only difference was, was that Harry could usually see the ghosts while he was talking to them- unless it was Peeves, but that was Peeves and everyone knew he was a pain to deal with anyway. He couldn't see JARVIS.

And at that moment, Tony's mysterious computerized butler spoke, "Good Morning, young sir, I am JARVIS. If you need anything just ask and I will assist in any way I can."

"Ask him about the weather, Harry. He'll answer. If you're anything like Tony, you will get so used to JARVIS being around; you'll wonder what you did without him."  
Harry doubted it. He didn't think he would ever get used to being able to talk to something he couldn't see. But he didn't voice his thoughts; instead, he just asked, "So I should just ask him about the weather?"  
"Yes, start with "JARVIS-" and he'll respond."  
"Er, okay, JARVIS?"  
"Yes, young sir?"  
"Please just call me Harry," Harry said as his cheeks became slightly redder.  
"Very well, Harry, how may I assist you?"  
"Could you, could you tell me what the weather is like outside, please?"

"The current weather outside is 81 degrees Fahrenheit or about 27 degrees Celsius." The automated butler, of sorts, responded promptly.

"Oh, okay, thanks, JARVIS."  
"You can ask JARVIS anything at any time," Bruce reassured the still uncertain teen before him. "I know it will take some time to get used to it, but I promise you, you will. If Steve can get used to it, I know you can too."


	5. Chapter 5: The Boy in the Frame

**As the Night Falls**

[A Harry Potter and Avengers Crossover]

**Disclaimer: **Ownership goes to their respective creators.

The author is not a doctor.

**Warnings:** Sick Harry in this chapter.

Mentions abuse.

**Author's Note:** Yes, you are seeing it right, another chapter!

A lot more Bruce and Harry interaction in the chapter. Sorry no TonyxHarry action yet, but it's coming.

All dates in HP have been pushed forward to correlate with MCU events.

* * *

**Chapter Five: The Boy in the Frame**

While he appreciated Bruce trying to get him familiarized with JARVIS, Harry wondered why he was wasting his time. Although Bruce had no way of knowing, Harry doubted that he would be able to stay here with Tony during the summer months. It was his mother's sacrifice that had defined his childhood, and it was his mother's blood that kept him safe. Would he receive the same protection if he lived here with Tony? Probably not.

Throughout the whole attempt to get him familiarized with the AI, something else kept nagging Harry.

He couldn't shake something that Bruce had said. Something about looking up his Aunt and Uncle, while he had been unconscious.

How had they been able to do that? How had they been able to trace him back to the Dursley's? As far as he knew, the Dursley's had tried to do everything to distance themselves from him and make it appear that they were not related or connected in any way.

The Dursley's absolutely _hated _it when someone had mistaken Harry to be their child. They had always quickly corrected the person that Harry was their _nephew_, their most unwanted nephew.

"Um, S-Bruce?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"How, how exactly where you able to trace me back to the Dursley's?"

"What do you mean? We asked JARVIS, and he searched the web for you." The concern was evident in his voice.

"But, I uh, I am not- I don't have any access to the internet, how could you find all this stuff about me?"  
"Your passport gave us a good place to start. It provided us with the basics, name, age, what country you're from, things of that nature. Basically, everything we couldn't tell just by looking at you. Anyway, we set JARVIS on it, using facial recognition from your Passport photo, and he pulled up a few articles and records from when you were younger. And since your Aunt and Uncle have guardianship over you, they would always be connected back to you. Would you like me to show you what we found?"

"Do you mind?" Harry said, slightly fearful as to what they found. There was no telling what had been posted about him on the web, and with his own limited access to the internet, he had no way of checking. Dudley wouldn't let him come near any of his laptops, even the ones- yes, there were multiple- that he had broken the screen during a tantrum because his team had lost.

"I wouldn't have offered if I minded. JARVIS, pull up everything you have on Harry James Potter."  
And a few seconds later, Harry was looking at a screen that was full of an assortment of pictures ranging from those of his earliest primary school days to those taken earlier this summer. One of them was as recent as just a few days before. It consisted of him standing dejectedly in the background as his aunt, uncle, and cousin standing beaming at the forefront when his uncle had won the trip to New York. The happy family of three looked as proud as peacocks while Harry, who was barely in the shot, stood looking on in the background.

Harry stared at the countless newspaper articles and magazine entries in shock. He hadn't been aware that he was even in half of these pictures. For all the times the Dursley's had tried to cut him out of their otherwise happy family, exclude him from everything they possibly could, and pretend that he didn't exist, there was proof that he did, he _had_ existed, and there was a multitude of photos to prove it.

He was never in focus, always in the background, but there nonetheless. Always easily overlooked, but if you looked hard enough, you could not miss him.

Bruce, not understanding, or perhaps misinterpreting the look of amazement on Harry's face, spoke, "It is pretty remarkable that JARVIS is capable of doing everything he does."  
But Harry barely heard him. "I'm in these pictures! I didn't even know these pictures existed!" he exclaimed in shock while flipping through the screens to look at more pictures, only taking time to scan some of the captions. They never listed his name, but that didn't matter to Harry. They did, however, mention the names of his aunt and uncle plenty, and on occasion, his cousin too.

"Why wouldn't you be in the pictures? You're their nephew; you should be standing there with them." Bruce said carefully.

Bruce had strongly suspected physical abuse because no kid had that amount of scrapes and bruises just by roaming around, and kids, no matter how fast their metabolism was, were not that skinny unless they were being starved or were very sick. Yet Bruce knew that it was likely that the child wouldn't immediately admit to his relatives' treatment of him no matter how much he hinted around or asked. It was better just to let Harry say what he wanted to say about the subject and store it away for later review.

Harry looked at him like a deer caught in headlights, mild panic evident in those startling emerald green eyes, "N-no reason. I just am usually at school,"

And while Bruce wasn't as good as Natasha or Clint in calling a lie, he knew that the boy wasn't being entirely truthful.

Perhaps he had been at school some, but unless the kid went to a boarding school- which Bruce doubted as they usually cost money, and that did not seem like something the boy's relatives would willingly pay for the boy to receive- then there was no way the kid was at school that much that he didn't even realize there were numerous photos of him.

Harry saw the skepticism on the other man's face, and his feverishly pink face darkened slightly.

"I go to a boarding school during the school year. It is the same one my mum and dad went to when they were my age, so I only spend the summer months with my Aunt and Uncle because it's so far away."

"Do you like it there at your boarding school?" Bruce asked, wondering how Tony would take it that his newfound son would be gone for the majority of the year at some boarding school in England.

"Yeah," Harry said immediately and without thought, although he seemed somewhat surprised by the answer.

Bruce wondered why that was, but sensed that it was probably a safe topic to talk about.

"It gets me away from the Dursley's, and I have two really good friends there."

Bruce gave a hollow chuckle at the admission; he supposed any child would be excited about school if it met getting away from the walrus of an uncle, and giraffe of an aunt. "Oh, yeah?"

"Ron and Hermione, we met in our first year. I had never had a friend before I met them. At first, Ron and I didn't like Hermione, but after one of our professor's thought it would be a good idea to let in…" Harry cut himself off with a shake of his head. "He decided to play a cruel joke on Halloween, and Ron and I befriended Hermione then."  
Bruce frowned, wondering what kind of joke a professor would pull, or why a professor would be joking around in such a way, to begin with. Particularly in a school full of underaged children. The way Harry put it, it did not sound like the joke was entirely harmless or just for kicks. What kind of school would hire a person like that? He would try to get more information, but he would be telling Tony about this- after he got over the shock of having a son.

Harry noticed Bruce's expression and quickly elaborated and reassured the kind man, "Don't worry, he doesn't work there anymore. He kind of had this mental breakdown sometime before the start of the term, not that any of us knew until the end of the year, but yeah, Dumbledore, I mean Professor Dumbledore, hired a new professor last year. He turned out to be a complete fake. Didn't do half of what he said he did, but hopefully, we'll have a professor who is actually qualified to teach this year." Harry said, scrunching up his nose in disgust at the thought of phony Lockhart.

"And are all of your teachers so… sketchy?" Wondering just what kind of school Tony's son went to.

"Oh no, we have a lot of good teachers, we have Professor McGonagall. She's really strict and kind of old, but she's fair, unlike Snape. Snape or I guess I should call him, _Professor_ Snape, is a downright git. Ron swears that he's a vampire." Harry almost whispered while smirking as he remembered the time Fred and George convinced Peeves to follow the Slytherin head of house around with garlic. Snape had been _so_ mad, but since he couldn't actually pin it on anyone- although it was clear he suspected someone from Gryffindor- so he punished the whole house by causing them to lose extra points during the next potion classes.

Professor McGonagall had been red-faced with fury when she learned at the sheer amount of points he'd taken from her house, but it was worth the laughs they had that evening in the safety of their common room.

Bruce laughed, at the way Harry said it, like it the teen had just let him into a big secret that was only supposed to stay between the two of them. Leave it to children to call one of their teachers vampires. Kids' imagination knew no bounds. But he was curious why Harry and his friend would insist that their teacher was a vampire. "Why?"

In a child-like seriousness that only children could master, Harry said, "Well, for one, he's super pale, and he wears black robes all the time. Like I've never seen him wear any other color in the two years I've been at school. Even his hair is black and greasy. And his office and all of his classes are in the dungeons. It's always dark down there because there are no windows. Plus, he _hates_ garlic." Harry said with a shrug, casually omitting the fact that it was probably because of the prank Fred and George pulled.

"You have classes in a dungeon?"  
"Yeah, but just Snape's. Then we have Professor Flitwick. No one has ever asked, but we're all sure that he is half elf- or goblin, I suppose- Hermione says Gobin- but Ron and I think he's part elf because he's so small and he's too nice to be half-goblin. He has to stand on a stack of books in order to see the class, and sometimes when we get an answer correct, he gets so excited that he'll topple from it." Harry grinned as the thought about the time Hermione got a particularly tricky charm right on her first try.

Bruce blinked at this. The professor was obviously a dwarf or something of the like, but that hardly explained the vampires, elves, goblin name-calling. Just what kind of things did they teach over there at this boarding school for the students to widely compare their teachers to fictitious creatures? Bruce was sure he called his teachers some names when he was in school, but not to the extent or with the creativity that Harry and his friends did.

"So, do they teach you anything interesting at this school?"

Harry hesitated. He couldn't very well say 'yeah, loads of things, like how to brew a hair-raising potion or a sleeping draught, or how to re-pot baby Mandrakes, who can kill, or at the very least, knock you out, with a single cry.'

So Harry played it safe and went with the answer that Bruce was most likely expecting, "I suppose so. They teach us chemistry, history, gardening, and regular stuff like that. It can be kind of boring, particularly the lessons that are just theoretical, but the classes where we have to practice are usually always pretty fun."

"Well, it sounds like they teach you an arrangement of things over there. Does your cousin also attend?"  
Harry choked at the thought, causing Bruce to quickly and swiftly pat his back as he waited for the teen to stop coughing.

"Merlin, no! I mean no, Dudley doesn't attend. It's very selective, and usually, you have to be related to someone who's already attended, but not always. Hermione is the first person in her family to attend, but everyone in Ron's family has or is attending. Mum and dad attended, and dad's parents before him went. Mum was the first and only person in her family to attend until I started going two years ago."

"So, you can only attend if your parents go or something like that?" When Harry nodded, Bruce continued, "Therefore, I'm correct when I say your Aunt and Uncle didn't attend?"

"Aunt Petunia never got an invite to go, mind, I don't think she or Uncle Vernon would ever want to attend a school full of freaks. And obviously my cousin Dudley didn't get a letter saying he was accepted. Not that it would matter if he did, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would never allow it."

Bruce grunted, and Harry tried to determine what it meant. Uncle Vernon grunted a lot when he looked over Harry's finished chores, but it was never because he was admiring Harry's work. However, Bruce didn't seem put-out or mad. "You said your friend didn't have any family members to go, how did she get in? And does this school have a name?"

"Er, yeah. It's called Hogwarts. An odd name I know, but the local town is also named after a pig so… I guess the founders just kind of went with it, but the school and the town are both really old, so there's that too."  
Hogwarts, that was undoubtedly a strange name for a school, and one that Bruce was sure he wouldn't forget anytime soon.

"And Hermione got in through a scholarship, I think. I don't really know. I never asked her." Harry didn't have to ask how Hermione had gotten in, but he couldn't say that she was a witch without breaking every statute of secrecy known to witches and wizards.

"So when do you get this coveted letter of acceptance?"

"Well, you have to be eleven to go to Hogwarts. I got mine on my eleventh birthday, although they had tried to reach me before then."

"Do you plan on going back this year? When does school start back?"  
"We catch the train at Kings Cross on September 1st, and what do you mean, am I going back?" Harry pressed, somewhat confused by the question. Why wouldn't he go back?  
"Well," Bruce fumbled for the right words, not wanting to set the child off. At some point during the morning, they had reached an uneasy peace between them, as apparent as it was that Harry didn't really trust Bruce. Not wanting to jeopardize it by asking the wrong question or saying the wrong thing, Bruce put some thought into his response. "I'm sure Tony would like to get to know you, and September 1st is only a few weeks away. That doesn't give you a whole lot of time to get to know each other."

Harry looked confused for a moment before he said rather firmly, "I know you think that Tony's my dad and you say the paper says something similar, but my dad died. He died protecting my mum and me on that Halloween night. I'm going back to England with the Dursley's at the end of the week, and on September 1st, I'm boarding the train with the rest of my friends and going to Hogwarts."

"Harry, we cannot let you go back to your relatives. It's not safe. They left you _alone_ in a city, in a _country_ that you are not familiar with. They haven't even reported you missing, what kind of guardians do that?"  
"But don't you get it? I'm an _orphan_. My parents are _dead_. I don't have anyone else but Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Do you think I want to go back? I pleaded with Professor Dumbledore right before the summer of my first year, to let me spend the summer at school, but he wouldn't hear of it. He said that they're my legal guardians and that he had no choice but to send me back. Besides, I _do_ owe them for taking me in, when they could have taken me to the orphanage or drowned me or just abandoned me. They've sure threatened it enough times, but no matter how much they might have wanted to do those things, they never did."

"Listen to me," Bruce said, but when Harry refused to meet his eyes, Bruce tried again, this time making it much more of a command rather than a simple suggestion. "Harry, I need you to listen to me, okay? They _did_ abandon you. They brought you to New York and turned you loose in the streets." When it appeared Harry was going to interrupt, Bruce held out his hand to stop him while he continued. "Do you even know the name of the hotel they are staying at? Or how to get there?"  
Harry didn't say anything opting to fiddle with the sheet corner instead.

"Do you even know why you are in New York?"  
"Of course, I do! Uncle Vernon won some sort of office sweepstakes and got four tickets to some sort of convention and a trip to New York."

"Do you know where the convention was being held at? Or where you're at?"

"Yes! You said Tony Stark owned this building."  
"I did say that, but do you know the street in which this building is on?"

"No, I wasn't really paying attention to street names last night, as I kind of wanted to just get out of the rain and not spend a night on a park bench or in some darkened alleyway."

"You will never have to worry about that, here, Harry. You will always have a home here; I promise you that. Tony will insist that you stay here with him. If you want to take the train to Hogwarts on September 1st, you'll have to let him know that that is what you want. But I can guarantee you that your home with the Dursley's is not your only option. In fact, when Tony and Pepper get back, it won't even be an option."

"You sound mighty sure that Mr. Stark will want me. If you're so positive that I'm his son, then why haven't you told him yet?"

"He hasn't told me, because I left before the DNA results came in." A new voice came from the door, neither Bruce nor Harry had heard open.

"I got your call, Bruce."


	6. Chapter 6: The Boy in the Morning

**As the Night Falls**

[A Harry Potter and Avengers Crossover]

**Disclaimer: **Ownership goes to their respective creators.

**Warnings:** Uh, none, I guess.

**Author's Note:** All dates in HP have been pushed forward to correlate with MCU events.

The Weaver's are my O.C. American family.

* * *

**Chapter Six: The Boy in the Morning**

Once Bruce determined that the boy would be fine with enough rest and proper care,

Tony, at Pepper's insistence, gave up one of his many rooms on his floor. He didn't know why it had to be his floor that the boy had to stay on, but no amount of arguing would change Pepper's mind.

While he was at it, he also made sure Bruce had everything he would need to treat the ailing child (see he was a good host!) for the next few days before he went back to his relatives, or until they were able to find a more suitable guardian for him.

Afterward, Tony settled in the common area to read the questionnaire packets that he had meant to get around to reading earlier. At the same time, Pepper stayed with Bruce to try to gather more information on the child. With all the prior excitement over the child cutting into the few hours he had left, Tony knew that he would have to read the files now, or he wouldn't have time to do it. But as the saying goes, better late than never.

Pulling up the file on the Dursley fellow, as he was mentioned earlier, Tony began to read the pages of background information on the man.

In the end, the only thing Tony was able to gather was that Vernon Dudley held a minimal position of importance at a drill manufacturer in Surrey. The family also consisted of one kid, Dudley, who loved playing video games and hanging out with his friends and a stay-at-home wife (and as Pep had said, there was no mention of the nephew that he currently harbored upstairs). The wife, one Mrs. Petunia Dursley, who shared a likeness to an anorexic giraffe and enjoyed gardening (although Tony knew this already from Pepper's earlier research) and book club. Tony looked at Mrs. Dursley and knew that even if he was drunk off his rocker he would not have spent an evening with her. Dursley, himself, was about as exciting to read about as his wife was, which was to say: he wasn't. With no real interest in technology, Tony gathered that the only reason why he had entered the competition was for the sole purpose to have his son meet the great Tony Stark. As apparently, Tony Stark was his son's _idol,_ and the boy wanted nothing more than to grow up to be just like him one day.

Tony preened at that; he was always happy to welcome someone else into his fanbase.

Be that as it may, he couldn't say he was overly impressed with the family just by looking at the pictures.

The husband was fat, in a way that would be detrimental to his health much sooner rather than later. The woman was as skinny as her husband was fat- guess opposites really did attract each other. Their equally rotund son, who looked to be around the same age as his cousin (thirteen) looked like he had never exercised a day in his life, and probably never would.

Tony wondered why, out of everyone who had entered the contest, this man had won. On paper, Vernon Dursley certainly did not appear to be the kind of person Tony had envisioned winning the contest, but maybe there was something else that had made the man deserving of Tony's time.

Riffling through the sheets of paper again, Tony checked to make sure he hadn't missed anything before moving on two the second winner and his family, hoping that this person, at least, held some appreciation for his technology.

Unlike the winner from England, the American winner from California, Liza Weaver, worked in the research field and appeared to hold a deeper understanding and appreciation for what Tony did than Dursley had. Also, unlike Vernon Dursley, she would have two kids ages fifteen and eight accompanying her today, alongside her husband, Ben, who was a middle school technology teacher.

Nowhere on Liza's interview did she mention what an amazing experience it would be for her children. Instead, she focused on herself and how she hoped to be able to integrate some of Tony's newest creations into her research lab after seeing demos at the presentation.

Tony was relieved that at least one of the winners actually knew something about his innovations.

By the time Pepper finally came downstairs and joined him in the common room, Tony had finished reading the files and was downing the last remaining bit of his coffee.

"Did you read the files?" Pepper asked while eyeing the folders that were thrown haphazardly on the couch.

"Yeah," Tony said as he got up to get some more coffee from the freshly brewed coffee, Clint had just made, "I gotta say, what were the criteria the contestants had to meet to qualify for the sweepstakes, again? Because I'm pretty sure that the winner from England was not the best nor most qualified person we must have had."

"The only criteria that they had to meet was that they worked for a company that used Stark Technologies."  
"That's it!? Whatever happened to the idea of the contestants having a degree in technology or science or something?"  
"I told you, Tony, we needed to set stricter guidelines of entry."  
"So why didn't we?"  
"Because you wouldn't listen to me when I said that if we allowed just anyone to enter, then we might get someone who did not know anything about your research or your technologies."

"So we just take my word for it now? You're the CEO of the company; you should have come up with stricter guidelines."  
"I might be the C.E.O., Tony Stark, but this was _your_ idea to give a personal tour of the Expo. Don't you dare blame me for something I had no part in."  
"Well, can't we do something? Get rid of them somehow and get another family who would actually appreciate my ingenuity? Surely there must have been runner ups or something? Call one of them up and say that they won. If you have to, send my jet to pick them up."  
"Tony, no. We cannot get another family to come and take Mr. Dursley's place. If you had read the files earlier, perhaps we could have made a consolation prize and given it to them instead, but the doors open in fifteen minutes, and you are due to meet the Dursley's and the Weaver's in an hour. Besides, you have their nephew upstairs. Bruce wants you to figure out why they would leave their nephew unattended and allow him to roam around in a city he's not familiar with."  
"Are you sure we can't just forget this whole thing and-"  
"Yes, Tony, I am sure. You have already paid for both families to spend a week in New York just so they could attend the Expo. Now get your coffee, and let's go."

"Fine." Tony sulked as he poured himself another cup of coffee, ignoring Steve, Clint, and Natasha, who was watching the exchange with varying degrees of interest.

* * *

Forty minutes later found Tony and Pepper greeting the two lucky winners and their families. Tony and Pepper had to discretely wipe their hands after shaking Vernon Dursley's sweaty hand and force polite smiles as he loudly boasted how his son was going to become the next Tony Stark. Oddly enough, the boy hadn't even taken his off his game long enough to realize that his "idol" was standing right in front of him.

When it became clear that Dudley wasn't interested or even cared, about what Tony did, the man tried to impress them by talking loudly about what a good business venture it would be for Tony Stark to start doing business with Grunnings.

Feeling a headache coming on, Pepper gritted her teeth throughout the whole onesided conversation and politely nodded her head acting like she following along and considering the offer. Finding potential business prospects was not the intended purpose of this meet and greet tour. Not that it really mattered, Pepper was sure that Stark Industries would _never _do business with someone like Vernon Dursley- even if the walrus of a man had been in a position to make such contracts between two companies.

Pepper at least was doing a better job of concealing her uninterest than Tony, who wasn't even attempting to hide his boredom anymore- not that Mr. Dursley seemed to care or notice.

She smiled apologetically at the Weaver's, hoping that Tony would be able to somehow shake it out of them, why their nephew wasn't apart of the group.

"You know," Tony said randomly after listening to what had to be Dursley's fiftieth attempt to convenience Tony that Grunning's was the answer to all his problems. "I was wondering whatever came of the fourth ticket I sent. I believe Pepper wrote in the letter that all unused tickets should be returned."  
The Weaver's appeared confused, but the Dursley's faltered, they seemed to know exactly where the line of questioning was going. Well, Vernon did, as he was the only one talking. Petunia just blanched at the question.

"Er, well, you see, Vernon's sister was supposed to come but fell ill at the last moment. We tried to find someone to come instead, but since it was last second, all of Dudley's little friends were busy." Petunia said when it appeared that her husband had finally run out of things to say.  
"Isn't there another child that lives with you?"

"What?" Petunia gasped as she looked nervously at her husband, while Vernon looked flustered. How exactly had he known about _him_? Vernon had never listed the boy down on any of the paperwork.

"We did a background check on both winners and documents came up stating that you had a nephew living with you," Tony said casually as if he didn't care one way or the other. _He_ didn't, not really; he just needed to figure out why he was taking care of their thirteen-year-old nephew.

At that moment, Pepper decided it was best if she ushered the other family away to check out a cool prototype that could potentially eliminate the need to vacuum the house with a traditional vacuum cleaner. She guided the other family away so that Tony could have the privacy he needed to dig deeper into their lives to find out about the child.

"We didn't consent to have a background check! What kind of-"  
"I believe the entry forms all stated that the winning families _would_ be subjected to a thorough background check."  
"Vernon," his wife hissed silently while clutching his arm desperately.

Tony found it odd that the woman seemed terrified at the thought of Tony finding out about their nephew. However, it was Petunia who spoke up, over her husband, who was still sputtering.

"I do have a nephew." Her lips curled briefly at the admission. She ignored him and continued with a long-suffering sigh. "We had no choice but to bring him along after we couldn't find anyone else who could come or anyone who would be willing to watch him. You see, he has serious social anxiety and acts out very frequently when in public places. We try to avoid taking him out, at all, since it is so stressful for him. We left him back in the hotel, where he'd be more comfortable."  
Tony didn't comment. While it would be a plausible explanation, the boy wasn't back at the hotel like they claimed, unless Stark Tower had become a hotel at some point. Plus, he was supposed to defend those who were too weak to protect themselves, and even if the kid wasn't laid up in bed with pneumonia, the waiflike kid didn't look like he had much of a chance to defend himself.

"I am sorry to hear that he couldn't make it. Perhaps, I should stop by one day and meet him, so that he doesn't feel left out." He mused out loud, observing their reaction.

Tony did not miss the strangled sound Vernon made or the nervous titter of his wife. Their son, who seemed to be oblivious to the conversation before then, spoke up and said. "You can't. The freak ran off yesterday. Mum, I'm hungry! I want biscuits!"  
"What?" Tony spoke directly to the son. Perhaps Tony could get some useful information from the boy if he could pry him away from his cellphone long enough.

Unfortunately, the boy frowned at him and screwed up his fat piggy face and howled while pretending to sob, "I want- I want- I want a biscuit, Mum! You promised that you would get me a biscuit if I let you and dad talk. You've talked, now I want my biscuit! Mum, I'm hungry!"

"Duddykims, dear," The woman said over the boy's theatrics. "I promise you though the moment we are done talking to Mr. Stark, we will get you a biscuit." But the word "wait" must not have been in the boy's dictionary, as he continued on as if she hadn't spoken, or as if Tony Stark wasn't standing there.  
"But I want it now! Can I get a choccy one?"  
"Of course you can," Cooed his mother, leaving Tony to feel slightly nauseous.

"Can I get more than one choccy biscuit?" Tony didn't know why the boy looked up at his mother with pleading eyes; it was evident by the size of his girth that he hadn't ever been denied a "biscuit" in his life.  
"Most certainly, my Dudders. You can get four or five if you want it. Now let mummy and daddy finish talking to Mr. Stark so that we can get our growing boy something to eat. I promise we will be done in just a couple of minutes."  
With that promise, the boy went back to his game. At least one of them appeared to be satisfied.

Looking at the boy once more, Tony couldn't help but feel relieved that he didn't have any children. He was sure any children he might have had would have been equally as spoiled, but not in the same repulsive way, as the piglet in front of him.

Turning back to his parents, Tony asked the question that had been bothering him throughout the whole exchange. "What did he mean your nephew ran off?"  
Petunia flushed crimson and nervously pressed her pink skirt. "Oh, what my darling boy means, is that the boy had a panic attack yesterday at the terminal and ran off."

"I am sorry to hear that! Did you find him?"

"Well, no." She admitted but rushed to continue when Tony frowned, "But he does this sort of thing all the time, he usually turns up when he wants to." She laughed anxiously while looking at Vernon.

"He's mentally disturbed," Vernon said as if to bring an end to the conversation.

At this, Tony sent a quick text to Pepper, telling her to get back here now. He wanted her here for this, as he knew the Dursley's were lying about the events leading up to Pepper finding him.

Pepper had made him promise not to mention having their nephew until they got the full story as Bruce, as well as Pepper, strongly suspected the boy was being neglected if not downright abused by his relative.  
"I thought you said you left him at the hotel?"  
The Dursley's floundered for an answer as Pepper came walking up without the Weaver's.

"What's wrong, Tony? I left the Weaver's with one of the technicians."  
Tony acknowledged his girlfriend before looking hard at the Dursley's, causing Petunia to shrink into her husband.

"We- we left the key at the front desk and alerted the receptionist that our nephew might come in while we were out." Tony nodded his understanding, before entering his next line of questioning. "So, why did your son call his cousin a freak?"

Vernon laughed loudly at this, although it sounded a bit forced, "Oh, you know how kids are. It's hard for them to understand this kind of thing. No matter how much we try to explain it to Dudley, he still as trouble understanding the extent of his cousin's illness. It used to freak him out when the boy was going through these episodes when they were younger. In truth, it scared us a bit too, but Pet and I have learned to just deal with the boy."

"I see," Pepper said distractedly, as something on her phone seemed to catch her attention. "Excuse me. I must take this." And Pepper hurried off as she put her phone to the ear and listened.

"What about the boy's parents? I did not see anything on them." Tony said, trying to dig deeper.  
Petunia sniffed as if she smelled something particularly horrid. "My sister started seeing his father while attending that god-awful school. By the time they graduated, he had her hooked on alcohol and who knows what else. Vernon and I tried our hardest to intervene and get her help, but she refused and ended up marrying him and getting pregnant." She spat the words out bitterly. "Then fifteen months after the boy was born, the boy's father had to go and kill him and his wife while driving under the influence." The disdain and hatred couldn't be missed.

But now that she was on a roll and had hopefully found a sympathetic ear in the form of Tony Stark, she discovered that she couldn't stop. After all, it wasn't every day she could trash her dead sister and her husband to a billionaire. "Vernon and I believe that is why the boy is so screwed up now. His mother was probably drunk the whole time she carried him and there is no telling what kind of mental issues her husband had. Not that I would know, we did not talk after she married that drunk."

Tony nodded again, those were valid concerns, he supposed, but that hardly addressed the boy's state. The boy had been in her and her husband's care since his parents passing over ten years ago. That meant they were legally responsible for the boy and therefore, should know his whereabouts.

He was going to ask if they had notified the local police when Pepper came back with the Weaver's. Pepper and Mr. and Mrs. Weaver appeared to be discussing one of Tony's latest inventions, which Tony was all too eager to go deeper into the specs and its features.

For the moment, the Dursley's were forgotten, and the tour resumed.

Pepper and Tony eventually managed to break away from the two families when it was time for Tony to do his presentation.

The presentation went off without a hitch, and soon, Tony found himself listening to Pepper's closing remarks and meeting up with the Dursley's and the Weaver's one last time.

The second time Tony met the Dursley's proved to be just as exciting as the next.

"Did you report your nephew as missing when he ran off?" Pepper asked, concern coloring her voice.

"No, he does it all the time at home, and we have never bothered the authorities. He'll come home if he's hungry, is what I've always said. Besides, don't you have to wait twenty-four hours before filing a missing person's report? We would not be able to report him missing for another couple of hours." Petunia said as if she hadn't put any thought into reporting her nephew missing.

"Yes, that would normally be the case, however, since your nephew is still very much a minor, the police would send out an AMBER alert, with a description of your nephew. What is his name, by the way?"

"Harry James Potter."  
Tony couldn't help but smile a bit smugly; they had all but confirmed their relationship with the boy.  
Between Pepper and Tony, they managed to hassle the Dursley's for more information regarding their supposedly missing nephew before finally bidding them, and the Weaver's a goodbye.

Tony regretted that he hadn't been able to show the two winners all his creations, however, Pepper had insisted that since Tony was the one who wanted to do the whole contest, to begin with, he be the one that tried to get answers from the Dursley's. The American family, however, didn't seem to mind.

Once Happy picked them up in the Rolls Royce, Tony got on his phone and checked for any miss calls or messages. He wasn't expecting any, as everyone knew he was going to be presenting today, however, he was surprised to see a notification from JARVIS stating that there was a confirmed DNA match to his.

Although he hadn't been expecting to receive any hits on his DNA, he had thought it might be a good idea to program JARVIS to send an alert on his phone should there ever be one. That way, no matter where he was, he wouldn't be taken by surprise by finding a child at home.

"Hey, Pepper, do you know anything about this?" Tony said while passing over his phone for her to look at the alert.

Pepper raised her eyebrows at this before glaring at Tony. "What is this? You didn't tell me you had a child!"

"I didn't! I mean, I didn't have a kid until this." He said as he frantically gestured to his phone.

"Do you know who it is?" Pepper asked, wondering about the poor woman Tony had managed to seduce and of the child who was totally innocent in all of this.

"I don't know! I don't even know how old the kid is or who the mother is!" Tony said in a mild panic. He wasn't supposed to become a father! He knew nothing about how to be a dad or how to raise a child!  
"Well, I suppose we will find out when we get back to the tower, now won't we?" Pepper said cooly before picking up her phone and making a call.

When Tony went to try to defend himself, she simply held up a finger shushing him and continued talking to the person on the other side.

She ignored him the rest of the way home, and when Happy finally pulled into the parking garage, she opened her door and walked off without saying a word to Tony.

Tony sighed as he made his way to the elevator.

"JARVIS, where is Bruce?" Tony knew that he wanted Bruce to double-check the test results. Not that he didn't trust the guys down in the lab who were in charge of this sort of thing, but he wanted Bruce to review it too.

"Dr. Banner is currently with Mr. Potter."

Tony took off for the boy's room. He would check on the kid, make sure he was still alive and convince Bruce to rerun the DNA Then, while Bruce was rerunning the DNA., he would enjoy a glass of bourbon, or whiskey. Or both. Yeah, that sounded good. He hadn't had anything to drink in the past week. Then after Bruce confirmed that the child was his, he would meet his kid.

That was the plan until he approached the child's sickroom and heard the boy ask.

"...that I'm his son, then why haven't you told him yet?"

"He hasn't told me, because I left before the DNA results came in," Tony said as he opened the door and took in the scene before him. The boy...his _son_… was sitting up in bed, talking to Bruce, who had pulled up a chair.

Not knowing what else to say, Tony sarcastically said, "I got your call, Bruce."


End file.
